


Last Letters

by northeto (Emiline)



Category: Downton Abbey
Genre: Epistolary, Gen, Last Letters, multiple character deaths
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-29
Updated: 2012-07-29
Packaged: 2017-11-17 11:40:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/551156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emiline/pseuds/northeto
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt fill for the prompt: <i>The very last letters each of the characters sent in their lives. Or at least the characters you would like to write about. </i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Last Letters

**Author's Note:**

> It occurred to me (though this may not have been the prompter's intention) that the last letter each character sent might have nothing to do with their death. So, though in some of the letters the writer is aware of his or her impending death, in others, the writer is not. On another note, I realized Andrew Lang's letter may imply a suicide attempt. That is not the end I envisioned for him as I wrote his letter (I imagined a stroke or a heart attack brought on by stress), but nonetheless it may be interpreted differently. The letters are arranged in chronological order.
> 
> This prompt was posted over at the lj community dakinkmeme, though this fill is not kinky, nor does it contain sexual content.
> 
> Disclaimer: Downton Abbey belongs to Jullian Fellows, ITV and others, but most importantly it does not belong to me. I do not make any money from this. This is a fanwork done out of interest in the characters and the show, and not intended as copyright infringement.

**Tom Branson**

8 September 1922  


My dear wife,

I can assure that I am not being stupid in this battle. But you have always known where my loyalties lie and how important this is to me. I must continue this fight no matter the cost. I pray I will see you again soon.

Love,

Tom

\------

**Isobel Crawley**  


10 March 1926

  


My darling boy,

My protégée, Emily Watkins, is doing quite nicely. Cousin Violet, would not approve of my choice, no doubt, but I am well pleased with her work. It is difficult for me to give up so many of my causes but as you know my strength is not what it used to be. Still, I do as much as I can.

I raised the subject of retirement with Mr Molesely as you suggested—the poor man did not take it very well at first but once I reassured him that we would give him a cottage and a stipend, and he had some time to think about it, he agreed that we were in the right. I have already put an advertisement in the papers for his replacement but do let me know if you hear of any competent men.

I look forward to dining with you and Mary on Thursday next.

Love,

Mother

\---------------

**Violet Crawley**  


17 May 1926  


Rosamund,

Of course I’m right, dear. I usually am. Do not forget to talk to Edith about the garden party.

Mama

\------------

**Beryl Patmore**

(Letter written by her sister Kate, on Beryl Patmore’s behalf)

3 October 1935

  
Dear Daisy,

Didn’t I tell you that if you only learned to get your head out of the clouds you could really do something? I’m sure the girl will do wonderfully under your charge. Now you know what it was like having to deal with you all those years. You were a right airhead when you first started, you know, but you turned out all right, Mrs Mason. You’ve done well, my girl.

Sincerely,

Mrs Patmore

\----------------

**Elsie Hughes**

4 November 1937

  
Dear Anna,

You must be so proud of Sylvia and Teddy, they are such dear children. I am so pleased to hear that you are all doing so well. I should so like to see your dears again but I it is not possible at the moment. Do give them a kiss for me.

The doctor has come three times this week. I am sorry to say that Mr Carson is not improving as we all hoped he would. He is a stubborn man, as you know, but force of will can only take you so far, it seems.

In fact, Mr Carson’s condition is far worse than he knows. I have not told him yet—why worry the poor man—and have insisted the doctor not tell him either. I am very afraid that—but let us not tempt the fates by putting such thoughts to paper.

To tell the truth, if your husband and children can spare you, I would most grateful if you would come. I have been feeling not so well myself these past few days, and it would be a great relief to have your help and your company. I am sure it is nothing more than overwork and worry, and that I shall be right as rain in a week or two. Mr Carson and I would both be happy to see you, however, and it would do our hearts good to hear news of yourself and your family from your own lips.

Fondly,

Elsie

\-----------------

**Charles Carson**

4 November 1937

  
Mi’lord,

I wish to thank you again for coming with Her Ladyship to visit me. It means more to me than I can say.

Your obedient servant,

C. Carson

\----------------

**Andrew Lang**

25 October 1939

  
Dear Miss O’Brien,

I live in ever increasing fear of the war, and it seems that all my progress that I have made in the past two decades, all that which I have struggled so hard for has vanished with the certainty that we are once again at war with Germany. All that which I have endeavored to bury deep—never forgotten, but for a time buried far beyond the realm of daily torment has sprung up, fresh and new as though the war was but yesterday. I am afraid, Miss O’Brien, I am so terribly afraid and I cannot do not know how I will manage the terror. I am not sure that I can. 

I know it is unlikely that they will call me to the front, given my age but still I am terrified. I know that if they call me I will not be able to go. I will be paralyzed, Miss O’Brien. I thought all those years ago that nothing, nothing could be worse than the fear I lived with every day then. I thought that nothing could be worse than being trapped every night back out there, in my nightmares. 

Please forgive my penmanship, I find it impossible to quell the tremor in my hands that appears whenever I think on this topic. 

Every day I see young men, eager for war and I—it is a terrible thing, to see these young men, full of youth and fire and too young to have known for themselves the terrible cost of the last.

Oh that someone here understood, Miss O’Brien, but so few do, and we cannot speak of it, those who do. Not much at least. I will be forever grateful to you for your kindness and understanding back in those days. I appreciated it at the time of course, but I appreciate it so much more now, when I am so alone in the world.

What evils can we possibly have committed to bring such horror upon ourselves twice in one lifetime? It cannot be fathomed.

Most Sincerely,

A. Lang

\----------------

**John Bates**

17 March 1941

  
My dearest Anna,

I am afraid that the business in London will delay me a few more days but I will hurry home to you and the children as soon as I can. I miss you every day my dearest and I cannot wait to be in your arms again. Be strong and brave.

All my love,

John

\------------

**Cora Crawley**  


20 August 1950

  
My dear Edith,

I am absolutely delighted to hear that I am going to be a great-grandmama a second time! But why didn’t Victoria write me herself? Not of course, that I am not glad to hear from you too, of course I am. I don’t want to be a burden of course, but if I can help in any way I should love to come visit you. I haven’t seen you in such a long time, and I’m not getting any younger, you know. 

I’ve had a letter from Sybil, she sends her love and says to tell you that she’ll come and visit as soon as she can. Apparently she’s found one of our old servants, that girl who left to go be a typist or something. I can’t remember now the details—all I can recall is it caused such an awful fuss. The other servants were so upset too. 

I dropped in on O’Brien the other day—how happy she was to see me! I was so loathe to give her up you know, such a difficult decision. But she’s not much younger than I am, and you can’t really expect a woman in her seventies to be a ladies maid. I miss her companionship greatly.

Of course nowadays (and I’m going to sound like your grandmother Violet, loathe though I am to admit it) things just aren’t the way they used to be. The old ways are passing away, along with we few who remember them. 

Please give my love to your darlings. 

Love,

Mother

\-------------

**Sarah O’Brien**  


18 June 1958

Sally,

I’ve done things in my life I regret, but only one thing which I regret bitterly, with every waking breath. It has tormented me every moment of every day in the long years since I did it. A split second decision, born of anger and more quickly regretted than I contrived it, but still, it was too late. And I _have_ lived with it, these forty years since. I have done penance a thousand times over, and still, it is with me, as it will be when I draw my dying breath, which is fast approaching.

They don’t think I know, but I do. I’ve always been good at ferreting out secrets, for better or for worse. 

I’m leaving my money to you—accept it in the spirit it is given.

Yours sincerely,

Sarah O’Brien

\------------

**Edith Strallan, née Crawley**

2 June 1986

  
Dear Sybil,

It’s been a quiet week. I’ve done a bit of reading, chatted with Susan, that sort of thing. I like the quiet though—after all the clamor of our youth I find it restful and calming. You would be bored I think, with this kind of life, but I am quite content. I prefer my adventures in the pages of a book. Thank goodness for modern glasses, I should be lost without my books.

With love,

Edith

\------------

**Sybil Branson, née Crawley**

23 February 1988

  
Dear Eleanor,

Freddie should be bringing over in a couple of days the last of my papers for the university archives. I hope that they will truly be as useful as you seem to think they will be. If you would like, you can talk to him about getting access to my textbooks—they’re in storage at the moment. I don’t have much room for books where I am, unfortunately. How I would love to look at them with you! I am informed that no matter how clear my mental faculties, I am not to be crawling around amongst dusty books. A pity. Write to me when you have seen them, will you, that I may enjoy them vicariously.

With warm regards,

Sybil Branson


End file.
